The Lion And The Lamb

Well, little lamb... in this world, they are countless people searching for peace of mind. So I thought I'd take the time, to give you a piece of mine... 'Cause we have seen millennia pass since it was said that, “the bricks were fallen down," and that "we would build with hewn stones." While those full of gloom and doom said, "the sycomores were cut down, so we will have to change them into cedars..." and when I hear these things I laugh. For every generation there has ever been, man has contemplated this. Every man and woman ever born would all, eventually, wonder about their collective end. And so to many, the ebbs and flows of life, are signs. Apocalyptic signs. Little joys wrapped in misery, signaling the arrival of their deity of choice. And when I hear these things, I laugh. Oh, precious lamb of lore, your flock amuses me so. They are so eager... desperate, even, for their culling. Here they are in the valley, beneath the shadow of eventual death, and they do not even enjoy the shade! They are so busy looking up, with arms outstretched, placing one "pious" foot in front of the other, than they don't even see the edge they're walking off. Why? Because they're blind. Blind to the precipice in their logic. Defiant to any wisdom longer than a quotation. Arrogant to every text except those that are holy or those that come across their little mobile devices.... Hahahahaha... Oh, precious lamb, do you not see? Hahahahaha... Oh! And they are deaf too... Deaf to the pleas of those less fortunate than them. Here in this nation under your "Father," the meek and the poor are labeled freeloaders. All while your supposed flock puts their fingers in their ears, to make themselves deaf, when they are asked questions that your altered autobiography never answered. But, And let's not forget that they are dumb. For they have forgotten you, little lamb. They wear the symbol of your death... the literal burden you bore, as if to honor the act that brought about your demise, and not the intent from which you endured it. Isn't that dumb? No? Well how come they only remember your name when they need something? How come they only recall your "Father's" name with delight as they reach the peak of their orgasms?. And how come they only remember your name when a non-believer like me chooses to call you something else? Something like, simply a man. A profoundly brave, and down to Earth, man. Who was convinced that he was something that he was not. And yet, those who praise you now, would have been among the same ones that denied you after you broke bread with them. See, they praise you now... but they neglect your teachings, little lamb. The things you preached and practiced these modern fools call socialist. Saying that people like me are "the work of the devil." And your "Father" is just a character in the book they all love to own, but seldom read. He is the merely the name atop the paper currency they worship. They are far too busy keeping up with the Joneses, to ever worry about emulating the Matthew, Mark, Luke, and Johns. But hey, fear not little lamb, my observations are merely that. They are gospel to no one but me.